The proverb was known by every Gu Master, from the humblest Rank 1 to the highest of Venerables:
"Humans are the spirit of all living beings, and Gu are the essence of heaven and earth, the essence of the world itself."
But knowledge didn't equal understanding.
While Qin's main body might have known the complete answer, his memories had been carefully scrubbed, leaving only fragments. This loss of memory wasn't accidental — it was deliberate, a shield against detection through the likes of Red Lotus's time-gazing or Giant Sun's luck perception.
Left without complete guidance, Qin could only rely on his remaining insights. He knew enough Human Path to walk the beginnings of his path alone, to make sense of his own comprehension.
And he did.
To him, Gu were laws — fragments of reality's fabric. Like gravity, like electromagnetism, like thermodynamics on Earth. In this world, the laws of nature weren't set by abstract forces but by Gu.
Only Gu.
Humans could wield these laws as weapons, or fuse with them in a way, as Star Constellation did by merging with Fate Gu's will, or Fang Yuan with his Sovereign Aperture...or Qin with his Fate Devouring Soul. So-called "attainments" were mere reflections of one's grasp over a law or their ability to mold it to fit their desires.
As he swallowed the two Longhorn Beetle Gu whole, they slid down his throat and into his stomach, unbothered by stomach acid. They curled around each other and remained unmoving. They could be turned into food in a moment if he wanted to, but he did not.
If he'd intended to feed them to his Fate Devouring Soul, he wouldn't have bothered swallowing them. Holding them in his palm would have sufficed.
One of the beetles stirred, and Qin could feel its energy pulse within him, filling him with the strength of a bull. The sensation was potent — his veins tightened, muscle fibers tense with raw strength, and as he raised himself to his feet, his fists clenched instinctively. He could feel his muscles expanding beneath his skin, close to bursting. If he squeezed hard enough, he could picture a rock crumbling within his grip.
"In this world, there are no useless Gu worms, only useless Gu Masters," he muttered, amused. "But not all Gu are created equal."
The first Longhorn Beetle settled, quieting itself. As its energy faded, the second Gu surged to life, igniting the strength within him anew. Qin's lips curled upward.
From start to finish, not a single drop of his primeval essence had been used.
A quiet thrill wound through him. He marveled at the principles of heaven, so fair yet merciless in their tyranny. They allowed no deviation — in body, in mind, in spirit, heaven's rule was absolute, a boundless realm above all.
Humanity, on the other hand, was unfair but rebellious; its will bent toward defiance, unyielding in the face of tyranny.
But Gu? Gu were neither human nor rebellious. They were pieces of heaven, extensions of its laws, slaves bound to its whim.
He mused over this as the two Gu alternated within him, providing strength without spending his essence. It worked precisely because they were wild Gu. Inside his stomach, under the influence of his Fate Devouring Soul, their wills could be manipulated.
In his aperture though, he'd found that controlling wild Gu was far more difficult; direct bodily contact made all the difference.
"It seems the soul is closer to the body than to the aperture, hm?" he muttered, pondering the relationship between his spirit and his flesh.
Theories on wild Gu sparked in his mind, particularly on how they could function without primeval essence in the wild. The answer, he suspected, lay in the true nature of primeval essence itself. But for now, he accepted the process as it was — it worked, after all.
Factum est quod efficax est.
This technique granted him a practically infinite primeval essence, but it came with limitations:
1. He could only perform it with Gu of the same rank as his soul.
2. Wild Gu, unlike refined Gu, couldn't phase through his body, making Gu like the Moonlight Gu unsuitable for this technique.
3. The Gu still needed sustenance.
4. Manipulating the wills of Gu left his Fate Devouring Soul more hungry than usual, though the spare Hope Gu from the awakening ceremony helped stave off this hunger for now.
Qin moved to the window, pulling it open with a slow, deliberate motion. Cool night air flooded in, brushing against his skin and stirring the room's stillness. He leaned forward, his gaze drifting over the dark, star-speckled sky above, where countless stars glimmered like fragments of some celestial Gu waiting to be wielded. The faint silver light illuminated his face, catching the subtle curve of a smile.
He took a deep breath, feeling the strength of the Longhorn Beetle Gu thrumming through his veins, a quiet, steady pulse like a heartbeat in his muscles.
In the quiet solitude, Qin allowed his mind to wander. What would the future bring? Each step he took, each fragment of understanding he gathered, was just the beginning of a path far longer and deeper than he could yet fathom. And as he stood there, bathed in starlight, he felt the faint stir of anticipation—a calm, composed hunger for what lay ahead.
Meanwhile, somewhere in a forest not that far away, Fang Yuan stood beside a freshly dug grave, his expression as placid as ever as he looked down upon the resting place of an...unlucky acquaintance.
After all, he couldn't let the inheritance of the Flower Wine Monk be discovered by anyone.